Decay
by winry'sApplePie
Summary: In the midst of what could be the end of the human race, Masaomi races to find Saki and ends up falling back into Izaya's hold. Can they survive the Zombie apocalypse. Zombie AU, warnings for gore and IzayaXMasaomi yaoi
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello world I have returned and I brought hell with me. AAaaAAAaaa why must I always love the unpopular ships, I have fallen for these two trash cans and it's gotten so bad that I bring you this piece of garbage. I think every ship needs a zombie fic and although it's way past Halloween I give you this short preview sort of chapter to what is sure to be a mess.**

 **Disclaimer: All Durarara! characters belong to Ryogo Narita. I don't own them.**

 **Warning: Before you go any further know that this will be yaoi which means boyxboy also know that this will have gore in it. If your all cool with that then please enjoy!**

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Chapter 1

"Saki!"

Loud claps resonated against blood stained concrete, the perfect backdrop to the roars of mass panic and chaos that was the city of Ikebukuro. The monotonous beeps of the dial tone blared in the the blonde's ear as he ran through the back streets of the once prosperous entertainment district. The scent of blood and smoke clung to his skin as he quickly darted left, past the mounds of dirt-tainted snow. The cold was nipping at his skin, causing the boy to shiver and pick up an extra burst of speed to compensate for the lack of heat in the air. Pressing the call button once more Masaomi brought the beaten-up device to his ear, desperately waiting for an answer.

"Come on, come on, Saki pick up!"

The blonde's shouts were filled with fear as he continued to sprint through the maze of graffiti covered walls. He needed to find Saki, he needed to make sure she was okay. Maybe if he had listened to Izaya… No, screw that asshole! How was he supposed to know any of this was actually going to happen? How was he expected to trust the informant after all the shit he put him through?! The Yellow Scarves, the Blue Squares, Mikado, Anri, and Saki. He's trapped him in his thread time and time again; so when is he supposed to know when the older male is lying or not? Who was he kidding— Izaya always lies; but even if the informant really didn't know about this, his lie had become a reality. Loud rings of laughter began to bubble up from the teens scratchy throat; his burning lungs sucking in more frigid air as he continued his mad run in no particular direction, in search of a girl who may or may not even still be alive. The informant is either the luckiest guy on earth, or he is everything Saki kept telling him about. 'Izaya knows everything, if you're ever in trouble go to Izaya.' The girl's words rang through his head as he continued to laugh psychotically down the alleyway. The teen could feel his knees buckling as a bout of weakness surged through his body, his cackles dying down into quiet giggles and pitiful hiccups as he collapsed to his knees on the snow covered concrete. The built up heat began to seep out of his body due to the slushy mixture of ice, snow and water. The cold crept up his knees into his thighs and chest, causing the skin to get irritated and red from the harsh temperature. Not bothering to remove his arms from lying limply at his sides, the blonde clenched his fists trying to prevent the oncoming tears from escaping his eyes. In the face of his despair Masaomi began to do what he always did— shift all the blame to himself and direct all his anger on Izaya. Furrowing his brows in aggravation, Masaomi slapped his face, determination further redding his cold stained cheeks. A string of curses escaped his mouth as he glared up at the grey clouded sky.

"That bastard, that fucking asshole! Telling me all this and expecting me to believe him! Believe him, believe him like Saki did…"

Thinking more about what he had just said a light bulb went off in the blonde's head, his copper colored eyes widening in realization. He had searched all over Ikebukuro looking for Saki, scouring every nook and cranny while dodging every mutilated corpse, insane citizens and fed up soldiers. Yet he hadn't thought to think about Saki at all, not really. Where does she hang out? Who are her friends besides me? Who does she feel safe with? Saki had always been such a mystery to the former leader of the Yellow Scarves. Did he even really know the girl? Shaking his head to get back on track, Masaomi focused his attention on what he knew for sure about Saki Mikajima. Who was the person she always spoke about, the person she always said to go to if he was ever in trouble…?

"Izaya."

He breathed the man's name out in loathing, glaring at the ground; losing all focus on his surroundings. What a horrible choice. Suddenly, the loud crashing sound of metal alerted the teen to the situation he was in. Blonde hair rose on the back of his neck in fear and disgust at the sight before him. It was a man in a suit who looked to be in about his late forties. Now, an ordinary sight like this would hold no relevance or concern to a 17 year old high school dropout like Masaomi Kida; but the blood shot eyes and uncoordinated movements were what shot major distress signals throughout his brain. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he watched the living corpse crash against the dirt clod wall and dumpster it was trapped between. The resounding slap of flesh against metal and concrete played over and over again in the teen's mind as the man snapped his mucus and blood stained teeth at him in a frenzy of hunger. Trying to reawaken his cold and paralyzed limbs, Masaomi ripped his gaze away from the flailing corpse doll, springing his muscles into movement as he fled down the open alley and away from the infected man. If the teen wasn't running for his life, he would have laughed at the 'deer in the headlights' routine he'd just pulled. Continuing to sprint through the snow flurries and fires of Ikebukuro, the former Yellow Scarf made his way to Shinjuku; forgetting all about his waterlogged phone lying in the alleyway with the contact info opened on the name 'Izaya Orihara'.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello, I changed the name of the story to Decay bc my editors and I decided it sounds better, by the way I have editors now yay!**

 **Disclaimer: All Durarara! characters belong to Ryogo Narita. I don't own them.**

 **Warning: Before you go any further know that this will be yaoi which means boyxboy also know that this will have gore in it. If your all cool with that then please enjoy!**

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Chapter 2

Shinjuku was quiet. Not untouched by the carnage that befell Ikebukuro, but deadly quiet nonetheless. Not a living soul was in sight. A calmingly blue sheen covered the environment as snow flurries gently fell down to touch the charred battle worn streets; A false serenity shrouding the massacred underbelly of the district. Masaomi laughed at how similar the Shinjuku had become to the man who lived here. Searching for his phone in the ice cold pockets of his winter jacket, the blonde was met with nothing but soaking wet fabric. Groaning in annoyance the blonde looked up to the seemingly untouched apartment complex.

"Please don't make me come here for nothing Saki…"

The boy whispered, walking silently up to the front door of the building. He was surprised to see the glass open automatically for him; cautiously walking through the waiting doors, the blonde looked around the fluorescently lit room.

"It's only been four days since this all happened, I guess it's not ridiculous to assume some places still have power."

Rubbing the dirt off his red stained cheeks, Masaomi recalled how quickly his house had lost power. After three days of isolation, the former Yellow Scarf thought it was time to venture out and see the damage, as well as find Saki. Of course he tried calling Mikado and Anri, but neither of them answered. Going outside was a bad idea; he'd seen so much shit that he began to believe that none of his friends were alive. Shaking his head to wash away his thoughts, the blonde returned to examining the room. The elevator looked fine, but he didn't want to take any chances. Locating the emergency staircase, Masaomi put his ear to the door to listen for movement. After a soundless minute, he slowly twisted the handle to open the door, and began to scale the bleach white steps, cringing slightly at his heightened hearing skills.

"... All because of those jobs.."

His thoughts dropped off quickly as he approached the informants floor. Listening through the door once more, Masaomi steeled his expression, bringing up his old gang leader persona. Exhaling deeply, he summoned up all the authority he could muster and pushed against the heavy steel door. Padding cautiously into the dimly lit hallway, he let out a sigh of relief. 'No zombies, that's good.'

"It's all clear.."

He breathed, resting his head against the wall.

"Not exactly."

Stiffening up in fear, the teen darted his head to the source of the noise only to find Izaya staring at him with amused red eyes. The informant had a bag strapped over his left shoulder and a bloodied switchblade dangling from his right hand. One or two smears of the crimson liquid were dripping off his right cheek, highlighting his dark eyes, giving him an even more psychotic appearance. The older male's smile sharpened as Masaomi continued to stare stiffly at him. Trying to wipe away the shock from his face, Masaomi focused on making his voice as civil as possible; making sure that Izaya couldn't find any cracks in his armor and antagonize him. The boy's face became a blank canvas as he shifted his copper colored eyes to meet a set of dark red, nodding in seldom greeting to the informant.

"Izaya."

Flipping away his switchblade and concealing it in his pocket, Izaya focused his gaze on the stoic teen.

"So what brings you to my humble abode, Masaomi Kida? Could it be that you're looking for your precious Saki?"

At that, Masaomi scowled, lashing out as he hit the wall with his fist.

"If Saki is here, just spit it out already you bastard!"

Raising his hands in a mockingly defensive manner, Izaya backed away a few steps, a faux innocence adorning his face as he spoke. He wasn't taking anything Masaomi said or did seriously and it only caused more frustration to build within the former gang leader.

"Calm down, calm down, you're acting like I started this whole mess,"

The informants voice turned more sinister as he continued, a sick smirk forming on his already smiling face.

"It's not my fault the end of the human race has started."

Gritting his teeth in defeat, Masaomi broke his gaze from the informant's. Izaya was getting a kick out of this. When faced with the destruction of the humans he loved so much, he only showed a grin. This bewildered Masaomi to no end. 'Is his love for humans so strong that he believes we'll make it through this? Or is he happy with the thought of seeing our downfall as a species? Is his love for humans even genuine?' These were questions he didn't care to look any deeper into; Izaya was twisted like a knot. His musings were too complicated for Masaomi to understand; which was part of the reason why the boy was so attracted to him when they met four years ago, why he felt the need to stick around him and see what disasters this man would cause. The informant had an alluring charm that made one stay even if they knew he was trouble, especially for the former gang leader who couldn't seem to keep away no matter how hard he tried. Some would say they might be connected by a red string of fate, but that was all some housewife soap opera bullshit to a no-good kid like Kida. He'd better word their interactions as cruel twists of fate; and if there were strings involved, they would be puppet strings tied tightly around his body controlled by none other than Izaya Orihara himself. Lifting his dazed eyes from the polished tiled floors, Masaomi cursed at himself for going off into a useless string of thoughts about that bastard, which caused him to push aside what he came here for in the first place.

"Just...just take me to see Saki, Izaya."

His voice was weak and tired as the strain of his journey came crashing down upon him, accompanied by extreme exhaustion. His bright eyes became a dull muddy brown as he turned to face the door into Izaya's apartment.

"With pleasure."

Amusement still fluttered through Izaya's voice as he broke his sharp gaze from the broken down teen, moving to push open the door to his 'newly decorated' apartment. Looking towards the blonde for a reaction, he was pleased to see those sleepy eyes grow wide in astonishment and dart around the room in shock and curiosity. 'You never cease to amuse me, my cute little pawn.'

"So, Bakyura. What do you think? Is it up to you're tsundere standards?"

The use of his online handle caught the blonde's attention, causing him to bite the inside of his cheek to stop his oncoming smile. The teen recalled the argument they had when Izaya declared him a tsundere. Although the whole online chat between them was annoying, it was also fun, and it filled him with a worrying ache in his gut because the memory made him want to smile. It had become something precious to him. It made him want to vomit and laugh all at the same time, so he gnawed into his cheek harder, the spongy flesh almost tearing from the harsh bite. Slowly dragging his gaze back up to assess the apartment once more, Masaomi was still astonished to see an array of blankets and pillows thrown all over the couch and floor, along with mile high stacks of canned goods and other non perishable food items. The informant's home had never looked so lively! Suddenly, the smell of cooking food wafted through the air and caught the teen off guard even more than the apartment's appearance. Izaya never cooked! He'd only ever seen him eat fatty tuna from Russia Sushi. Shifting his eyes to look at the lounging informant leaning against the wall; relenting. he released his clenched teeth from the damaged flesh of his right cheek.

He _could_ say: 'What the hell is all this? You jerk' and proceed to listen to Orihara give a whole big speech about survival of the fittest, but something inside him, something from back then made him revert to his old habits of four years ago, when he used to hang out at Izaya's place all the time and talk to him for what seemed like ages, sometimes about the Yellow Scarves and Blue Squares, but a lot of the time about nonsense. Favorite TV shows, what's happening in the news, video games, and his failed attempts at picking up 'chicks' were not uncommon topics of discussion between the two males, although Izaya was probably just humoring him most of the time. It seems like forever ago, that point in his life; when he got over his suspicions of the bastard and before everything came crashing down around him. The point when he completely trusted Izaya Orihara.

"It's actually what I expected; I always knew you were a secret hoarder, Izaya."

Turning to his most common state of being, a genuine smile wormed its way onto Masaomi's face as a sense of normalcy and comfort washed over him. Cracking jokes was like medicine for him, it helped him forget the horrible situations he'd get himself into all throughout his life. He was glad it was still working, and even more surprised when a feeling of warmth came over him at seeing the amused smirk on Izaya's face grow even larger. That sick feeling from earlier rushed back, this time accompanied by a voice exclaiming. 'Are you really doing this again?! After all the shit he's put you through? How can you still like him?' Kida wasn't one for seeking approval from others; he got shot down by girls all the time, although he wasn't ever being serious with that and never expected to hook a chick with his flamboyant declarations of love. That's why he was so surprised with Saki; but seeing Izaya smile at him like that made him feel accepted, like he was good enough to get the informants attention. Hasn't it always been that way with Izaya? Wasn't he the one who told Saki to go after him in the first place? Without even trying he had attracted the attention of a very annoying and dangerous man, which is why he chose to ignore the voice in his head telling him to 'Run! Flee! Escape this monster before he swallows you whole!'

"Yes, yes. the jig is up; I've got millions upon millions of stolen possessions in my apartment,"

Izaya raised his arms up like he'd been caught by the police, then spun around in a circle until he came to dead stop right in front of Kida. A puff of hot air fanned the cold, sensitive skin on his ear as the informant leaned down to whisper in his ear, speaking in a darker tone.

"Which means you're my accomplice. Ready to go to jail with me, Kida chan?"

Deadpanning to conceal the sudden flush of his cheeks, Masaomi shakily backed away rather jittery from Izaya's advance; reminding himself that this was the man who ruined his life, who hurt Saki and that he shouldn't be deluding himself into thinking there was more between them. 'We're not friends or whatever. I'm nothing but a toy to him. A pawn he can use and thrown away at any time.' But despite his best efforts, Masaomi couldn't help but play into their witty banter for a little longer. A cautious smile formed on his face before it was replaced with an almost sedated expression as he questioned the informant, with a bored, dazed sort of tone. It was like he was smothering the playful feeling that had emerged earlier.

"Speaking of accomplices, you must have one since I know you don't cook…"

It was scary how much Masaomi knew about the male. Four years ago he'd thought the info broker was someone he could rely on. He had his suspicions in the beginning. There was just something inhuman about Izaya, a cold dread that gets you worried if he's even a part of the same species as you. Unfortunately, all that fear gets extinguished and turned into the tiniest of suspicions by that exuding charm that floats around the informant's being. It may have taken longer for Masaomi to crack, but like all others before him, he eventually broke.

Bringing his hands into his coat pockets, he began to walk towards the kitchen. Izaya looked back at the struggling teen who couldn't decide on whether to keep his face a blank slate in an attempt to stop Izaya from reading him so easily, or revert to his newly found smile that he'd developed around the informant. Either way, it was fun for Izaya. The emotions were so obvious on the teen's face no matter what expression he made.

"How observant of you Masaomi, why don't you go take a look for yourself?"

Masaomi chose to make his expression serious yet polite as he made his way into the kitchen, the gentle coos and humming becoming audible to his ears. There, standing by the stove cooking what smelled like some kind of soup was Saki.

"Welcome home, Masaomi!"

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 **A/N: If you didn't know I made a reference to volume 4 of the light novels where Izaya calls Masaomi a tsundere (which he totally is ;)** **anyway** **I hope all the characters were in character thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All Durarara! characters belong to Ryogo Narita. I don't own them.**

 **Warning: Before you go any further know that this will be yaoi which means boyxboy also know that this will have gore in it. If your all cool with that then please enjoy!**

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Chapter 3

There she was, the girl he'd been searching for. Saki Mikajima. She was staring contently at Masaomi. Her usual, almost unnatural smile plastered on her face as she continued to stir her spoon around the pot of soup. The blonde had always found her smiles reassuring in times of struggle, however; they also unnerved him to no end. It was like she was putting on a mask, one she wasn't even aware of. It was creating a false sense of reality that she deluded herself into believing. Everything in this world is right for her—there are no problems that can't be fixed by Izaya, no cracks in her mask that can't be glued back together. There is no pain when she adorns this veil, no lie she has to live with. This girl, who he had convinced himself into believing was his one true love, was only truly an empty shell; a doll that Izaya brought to life with some wood and strings. All this didn't matter to Kida, though. He didn't care what the bastard had done to Saki, because this is the only way he's ever known the girl, and maybe he liked her this way. Someone as empty as Saki and willing enough to accept all of his emotions was perfect. He could dump all his worries and sorrows upon her lap and it would never break, because she was already broken.

"S-Saki..."

Relief flooded the blonde's voice as he slumped against the wall, all the tension draining from his body. He'd almost forgotten about how high strung he gets around the info broker. Speaking of said informant, Izaya had just walked in, backpack in hand as he delivered the goods to Saki. Smiling gratefully at the sly informant, the girl began rummaging through the bag, plucking out cans upon cans of assorted soups and spices until she came to one that peaked her interest.

" So I guess this means you win. Right, Izaya?"

At this, the blonde began to focus more on the two standing figures, his copper colored eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. Saki looked playful and secretive as she added her chosen spice to the soup and began mixing the concoction. Orihara too was giving a devious smile to the girl, but quickly diverted his gaze to connect with Kida's, a sense of fondness joining his amused smirk, sort of like a face you'd make when looking at an adored pet doing something particularly cute.

"I guess I do; Masaomi has always been so predictable with his timing."

Anger rose quickly in the teen at the informant's condescending tone, but was extinguished by Saki's continued praise of Izaya's skills, his mind choosing to be filled with fatigue and hurt, instead. 'I would have expected something like this from Izaya, but for Saki to bet about when I would show up is a little painful to say the least...' The blonde could feel the informant's prolonged staring contest with his hunched over form on the floor, and it was eating away at him. 'What's so interesting? WHAT'S SO GODDAMN INTERESTING!? I want to know, I want to…' His sorrow was not enjoyable, but to Izaya, the emotional agony that was clearly racking through the teen's frame was the most pleasing of sights. 'That's what I wanna see, Masaomi. Show me every little detail of your pitiful heart and mind until it breaks, and afterwards I'll be sure to put the pieces back together.' Thought the informant, abandoning his red gaze from the blonde's downturned head and returning it back to the girl at the stove, Izaya channeled his illicit amusement into a more tongue-in-cheek attitude, closing his eyes and waving his hands around like a demented conductor.

"Anyway Saki, since your precious Masaomi did end up showing, we should get down to business!"

Grabbing his upper arms and swaying around as if he were dancing with himself, the informant continued with flippant glee.

"How about we become a trio? We can be an unstoppable zombie fighting crew, I'll be the black ranger, you'll be the pink and Kida can be Yellow!"

"You're missing three, there are six members in the power rangers." Masaomi said grumpily, annoyed by Izaya's mocking tone and trying to ignore the deliberate jab at his dark past.

"You know your pop culture well, someone's been watching a little too much TV. I guess it can't be helped. You haven't gotten out much since you dropped out of high school and started working for me. Rather than forming a corpse cleaning crew, how about we recreate the Yellow Scarves, instead. I'm guessing I won't be getting much clientele anymore since half of the population is probably walking remains by now; so how about it, Kida?"

Izaya had his hands in his pockets, his posture slightly hunched as he leaned forward to watch the teen intently. A wicked smirk formed on his face; eyes going alight with anticipation, waiting for the volcano to erupt. Rising to kneel on the ground, face in a scowl and teeth gritting tightly, Masaomi lunged, attempting to punch the informant square in the jaw.

"Bastard!"

Dodging smoothly to the side, Izaya grabbed the younger's wrist. As Masaomi was being pulled forward, he couldn't help but think how shockingly ineffective and helpless he was to the info broker; just like four years ago. This was exactly the same thing that happened that night at the hospital. However, instead of crashing into the wall behind Izaya in the cramped kitchen, he was pulled into a still embrace, the informant's arm wrapped around his waist and the other on the nape of his neck.

"I think you've already heard this before, but, you're the only one who can't escape from your past,"

The informant chuckled, continuing on excitedly with condescending glee.

"Look, you're doing it again! Coming at me exactly the same way you did four years ago. I'm sure that you're thinking: Why isn't this any different? Why haven't I grown stronger? It's because your past dictates who you are and what you will be, the only thing that can change the outcome is your past itself, your god."

The cold skin of Izaya's fingers were sinking through his clothes and brushing softly against his hair, sedating him and sending shivers up and down his body. A blush overwhelmed the blonde's cheeks as his face rested in the crook of the informants neck; the intimate nature of their embrace only amplifying the red flush. He almost cringed at the sight of dried blood cracking on the informant's pale skin but couldn't focus with the pleasant smell of gyokuro tea and exotic body wash radiating from his neck and shirt. Distracted from thought, the blonde became limp against the informant; arms swaying dead weight at his sides as he continued to allow Izaya cradle his body close. Fuzzy warmth seeped through his bones and his eyes grew more and more hazy with each passing moment. 'I guess you can still take showers and wash your clothes during the zombie apocalypse.' Masaomi laughed to himself at this, shaking a little in Izaya's hold. Eventually, he regained enough sense to push away from the informant. Staggering slowly to his previous spot on the other side of the kitchen and tiredly glaring at the older male, his pink blush fading slowly along with his confused emotions in favor of sleep. Sadly, his body's will was interrupted by Saki, who was unfazed by the event that had just transpired in front of her; like it didn't even matter that her 'guardian' was tormenting her boyfriend. Maybe it wasn't even torture at all. Maybe the teen wanted to deny what was building up inside him. Maybe the twisted desire and amusement he heard in the informant's voice and grip weren't all imagined by his sleepy and hormone-driven mind. No. What did he tell Mikado when he was first showing him around Ikebukuro…? 'Stay away from Izaya Orihara. He's really bad news.' The only reason he is as messed up as he is today is because of Izaya. He made him this way. The man's own desire to corrupt all the people around him and make them as fucked up as he was disgusted him. 'There's no excuses for what he's done. The past isn't my god and neither is Izaya.' Soon enough, his thoughts returned to sleepy tangents, all his attention focused on Saki's cheerful voice.

"I think it would be fun to recreate the Yellow Scarves, just the three of us. I'd gladly serve you two."

The blonde grew pale from the girl's words, all the blood draining from his body as giddy laughter floated into his eardrums. Izaya's laughter grew softer as a mocking smirk returned to his face, his hands leaving his pockets to move animatedly as he rose his voice.

"Then it's settled, from now on we're the new, new, new yellow scarves!"

Growling lightly at the man's provoking tease, Masaomi jumped forward to trip up the informant's twirling feet, only to be met with air and the sight of the older male hopping away while humming a manic tune.

"Look after Masa-chan for me Saki, I'll be back later."

Deadpanning in defeat and slumping fully to the floor, Kida shivered at the chill of the wood spreading over his exposed stomach. Pulling feebly at his white hoodie, the teen turned his head to the right only to be met with Saki's legs. The dress she was wearing was peach colored and was pretty long. It actually looked more like a dress you'd wear in the summer, not the winter. She must have nabbed it from an abandoned apartment, but that wasn't the point. The point was he could clearly see the large bandage that was wrapped around the upper part of her left ankle.

"You can count on me, Izaya. I won't let him wander off anywhere without me, right Masaomi?"

Saki looked down at the boy with the same smile she always wore, offering a hand to help him up. Taking her offer, the teen lifted himself off the ground, shaking his bleached blonde hair back into order. He focused his copper eyes on the girl's face.

"Saki?"

"Yes, Masaomi?"

Saki turned her face to stare at the boy, ready to accept anything her boyfriend had to say. 'She doesn't look sick…' Even though the signs of infection weren't there, worry still wormed its way into Kida's stomach. 'It doesn't always have to be like in the movies. Maybe this isn't infectious through a bite or scratch.' He knew that was a ridiculous notion. How else were so many people getting contaminated? He finally spit it out, pointing down towards her ankle.

"What is that?"

Following his finger, Saki smiled as she brought her arms behind her back in a coy manner.

"Oh, this?"

She brought her leg out to reveal more of the snow white bandage, staring at the wrappings with a fondness that left Masaomi feeling awkward and out of place. Was he missing something here?

"When I was trying to get here, some guy bit me pretty hard. The wound is deep and I've had it for a while; nothing's happened yet, so I think I might be immune. Izaya said we should try and find his friend. He's a doctor and might be able to make a cure."

Masaomi absorbed all of this as Saki slowly moved her leg back into its normal position, a wince escaping her mouth as pressure returned to the appendage. Eyes growing wide in worry, the blonde stepped closer to the girl, arms rising up slightly in a preemptive grab just incase she fell.

"It's okay."

The girl held her hand up to stop the teen from aiding her; quickly trying to wipe away her grimace of pain as she stabilized herself against the counter.

"We're still staying here because I'm not well enough to travel yet; I should be fine soon. It's almost all better."

That did not seem like 'almost all better' to him. If it hurt that much just to place her foot back on the ground, Kida couldn't image what walking felt like. Let alone running! Rage soon flooded through the teen; his fists clenching hard, nails digging into the flesh of his palm, leaving little crescent-shaped indents on the skin.

"Where's Izaya…?"

Looking befuddled at the blondes seething from, the girl shrugged it off and answered with a smile as always.

"I don't know, sometimes he just wanders off. You're welcome to check the house for him, I'm sure he wouldn't mind playing hide and seek with you."

Ignoring her strange phrasing and choosing to give the girl his best smile, he prepared to leave the small kitchen.

"Thanks, Saki."

He was stopped by the injured girl once more. Saki looked confused and slightly hurt as she lifted her right hand to lightly clutch at her left forearm.

"I don't understand why you're so mad at Izaya."

Eyebrows upturned in a frown, Masaomi faced the girl once more.

"Arent you? He has you cooking while you're hurt and I bet he's just using you for the cure. If you weren't immune, he probably would have left you! You should be angry, Saki! That bastard isn't good for anyone. He may have helped you, but it was only for his own gain!"

Keeping silent and smiling sadly, Saki watched the boy she loved look back at her with cold eyes, blocking all emotions but fury as he coldly stormed out of the kitchen to search for the man whom he could truly never escape.

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 **A/N: I hope everyone likes it, I made a reference to Izaya's dub voice actor who used to be the black ranger in power rangers for those who like the dub (aaaa I'm such a weeb)**


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